


Everything Hurts and I'm Dying

by Dark_and_night



Category: Black Christmas (1974)
Genre: One Shot, Other, Short One Shot, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22122169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: You're sick, trying to take care of yourself. But like, someone else is also 'taking care' of you.
Relationships: Billy Lenz/Reader, Billy Lenz/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 101





	Everything Hurts and I'm Dying

Next to you was a waste basket full of used tissues, in front of you was a fire that was entirely too big, but each time you dragged your half-dead self to the fireplace to try and put it out, you’d inevitably fall asleep as soon as you hit the couch, and when you awoke again the fire would be blazing bigger than ever.  


Between falling into and out of sleep, you had kicked off the covers, your body not being able to decide if you were too hot or too cold. The only thing that wasn’t changing was that your throat consistently burned, but you didn’t really appreciate that.  


You were dozing in the living room on the couch, the only room that had a flat surface you could sufficiently die on while still keeping close to the kitchen and the medicine cabinet. You were taking care of yourself the best you could, but it would have been a lot better if you’d had someone who could help you.  


As you dozed off for the fifth time that day, you heard muttering. You were too tired to open up your eyes, but you were pretty sure you knew what was happening regardless.  


'Oh god, sleep paralysis and a cold.' You frowned, kicking the blankets off yourself as the air around you seemed to get hotter.  


'Wait. This isn’t sleep paralysis.' Your eyes flew open in realization as you sat up, immediately sinking back down as your head swam from the sudden movement.  


“Stupid cunt can’t even take care. Can’t make a fire.” A man squatted by the fire, adding more logs to the fireplace, violently stabbing them with a fire poker while muttering gibberish. Your eyes widened in realization when you realized you recognized the voice of the Moaner who had been terrorizing the sorority house for weeks.  


You squeezed your eyes shut, your body shaking not from your sickness but from fear. Everyone else had left for the day so they wouldn’t get sick. There was no one you could call for help. And you knew you couldn’t fight him off, you could barely walk to and from the kitchen without getting dizzy.  


You were so lost in your thoughts that it took you a moment to realize that the blankets you had kicked off were being pulled back over you. You gasped, but luckily your breathing was uneven thanks to your runny nose, so the man mistook it for a cough.  


“Keep kicking off the covers, I’ll tape them on you.” He hissed, tucking you in with more force than was necessary. “Medicine for the sickie.”  


You tried to think of a plan, but there was no way out.  


Suddenly, you felt a thick, syrupy substance on your lips. You couldn’t help it. You screamed.  


You sat up, falling back into the covers to have a rough hand pressing down on your chest, keeping you from moving. You tried screaming again but all that came out was a raspy gasp.  


“You’re awake? Good. Billy’s playing doctor, and you need medicine.” The man-Billy-giggled, his voice terrifying and inconsistent. He glared down at you, a bottle in his hand.  


You shook your head, tears springing in your eyes, keeping your lips sealed shut to keep whatever he had put on them from entering.  


“Open your jaw or I break it.” Billy said, his voice suddenly commanding.  


Tears fell down your cheeks, your eyes darting to the bottle he was holding. It was cough medicine.  


'Cough medicine?' You thought, hesitantly licking your lips, tasting the familiar tang of the medicine.  


“Open wide!” Billy got his face close to yours, already tilting the bottle to your mouth even though it was closed. You opened your mouth as the syrup started to spill out, trying to keep it from spilling everywhere. You gulped a couple of times, coughing when he didn’t pull the bottle back. The medicine spilled down you chin, and only then did Billy pull it away, giggling manically.  


“Messy messy messy.” He chided you, wiping off your mouth with his sleeve, making your lips grind against your teeth. You coughed more as he pulled back, taking a tissue from the side table and wiping off the medicine he missed.  


You sat there gasping for a moment, and when you looked up again Billy was gone. Vaguely, you thought that you should get to a phone and call the police, but you felt your eyelids getting heavy. All of the excitement plus the cough medicine had wiped you out, and your tired and sick mind justified that a phone call could wait, at least until you napped.


End file.
